I usually try to tackle heavy subjects like fear, depression, loss, anger and shame.
Tonight, however, I’d like to go deeper.
I was talking to a friend recently about my theory that people who click the “non-crushed” ice button on their refrigerators have horrible self-esteem. First off, if you don’t like chewing on ice you’ve obviously never chewed on ice. It’s delectable. It’s not subjective, as ice has no flavor. And you like chewing, right? You do it all day. Now, you might not like chewing on canned tuna or Whoppers (both are terrible), but even if you do, I can’t use that to judge your psychological well-being. I believe you just have shitty taste and your buds are really whacked out of alignment. But you’re not nuts, necessarily.
Since ice hasn’t a taste, what I do know is if you aren’t chomping away you don’t enjoy having fun. Chewing ice is the milk’s bananas!
Okay, I’m not going to Google that, but for a second I thought I just made that up. It seems unlikely, and I probably heard it watching a newsie at the Bijou back in ’47. But, if I did just invent that phrase I’ll expect it up on UrbanDictionary with proper citation.
Hang on, bozos! I just made a statement that was over-generalized. Chewing ice in all its forms is not worthwhile. Ice that comes out of those plastic blue trays in your freezer are NOT to be chewed upon. They’re too big, too solid, and you end up playing Russian Roulette with your molars. It’s not smart or fun.
Same thing with the longer, cylindrical ones that come out of automatic ice makers. The “non-crushed” ice. These you can chew without chipping a cuspid, but again, it’s a little too intense. It’s not comfortable or relaxing. You’re nearing the edge of sanity. Sure you can let them melt down a little in your Fresca, but then your drink tastes watery.
Crushed is the only way to go. Fill up a tumbler of whiskey, load it with crushed ice, and chomp away while getting slammed. I don’t drink anymore, and I can’t remember if people order whiskey with crushed ice, but they goddamn well should. If you appreciate this style of ice as much as I do, part of the beauty is that each piece is unique. It’s like a snowflake without a tool to view the design of a snowflake.
Crushed ice is simply fun. It’s a free thrill with no calories.
So, my friend mentioned above heard this insane rant with no logic, sound reasoning, or empirical evidence and said, “Yeah, but crushed ice fails next to those little balls of ice.”
Hold the phone! Stop printing! We have a new exclusive!
She was right. Holy farts was she right! I had forgotten about the tiny balls of ice.
Not that slushie ice crap – that stuff sucks and we all know it. No, the little balls of ice you used to see at various snack shops. They have a texture that compresses in when you chew on it. It’s the most satisfying ice experience you can have, bar none. To be able to push ice into itself as it melts – well, it’s giving me goosebumps right now. I’m not joshing.
Just did some research, they range from 2-5k bucks. Ice pelletes are not easy to make apparently, and that’s a bummer because to spend that kind of money on an ice machine, while worth it in my book, is not a sound financial decision for me at this point. It reminds me of my friend’s dad growing up. “Sure we can afford a Ferarri, we’d just have to live in it.”
Tomorrow I’m going to see if I can find a local joint here in Chicago that serves drinks with ice pellets. I will try to take pictures if I can stop shaking with nervous excitement. I can’t believe you just read this whole ridiculous post. Truly.
photo credit: Seven Morris via photo pin cc